Numb
by Team-Jazz
Summary: Sequel to "Not In The Job Description". After the events of the past year, the world seems to be a much darker place for Maddy. But as things seem to be tumbling out of control, realisation hits. Some people are just too important to live without.Jane/OC.
1. Prologue

** Right, for any new readers, I would recomend for you to read my other Mentalist fic "_Not In The Job Description" f_irst, this will make much more sense. Of course, you could keep reading, but there will be some pretty major details needed from the last fic to properly understand it.**

**Hello again to all you faithful readers! I promised you a sequel soon, and here it is! So please, sit back, enjoy, and review at the end of this chapter :D**

**Disclaimer: The Mentalist and its characters belong to CBS. Maddy Clark belongs to me**

* * *

**Numb - A Prologue**

The office was dark and stuffy, and I found myself wondering how exactly it was supposed to make you feel better. The occupants choice of dark mahogany wood panels on the walls and desk, dark burgundy walls and black carpet hardly made the place light, never mind the fact that the curtains were drawn over the windows, stopping all light and air entering.

Awards sat on the shelves on the walls, and I wondered how exactly he had gotten them. He hadn't told me anything I didn't already know. The office screamed luxury, and it made it quite clear. This guy was paid far too much.

So why, I hear you ask, was I here? Orders from the top. I know, rubbish right? But hey, I wanted to keep my job. I _needed_ to keep my job. It was the only thing I had left in life.

Okay, so I'm being a bit vague, let me fill you in. I've recently discovered something about myself that, needless to say, is a bit of a shock. I'm not who I think I am. I'm the daughter of a murderer, a _mass_ murderer, the same man who, only recently killed my mother and hospitalised me. And he's still out there. So that is the reason why I'm here, in this stuffy room against my better judgement. That's why I was visiting a shrink.

"Now, Madeline-"

"Maddy, it's Maddy," I said through gritted teeth for the fourth time that day

"Maddy, can you tell me, how exactly did you feel when you realised that it was Gary calling you? Were there any...emotions of the past surfacing?

I stared blankly at the little man's face, his little, watery beady eyes, his wrinkled forehead. I gave a sigh.

"Well, obviously, I was scared. Who wouldn't be?"

"But no feelings for him, no confusion? You obviously ended the relationship quickly, maybe-"

"No way! You have got to be joking, he was a murderer, all previous feelings had shriveled up and died immediately!" I raised an eyebrow. He scribbled something down.

"And have you been in a relationship since?"

I paused my rant. "No," was the silent answer he received.

"Mmhhmm," came the answer, and he wrote something else down.

"Hey!" I said craning my neck "I do _not_ have trust issues!"

"Please, Maddy, I am only trying to help here!" He replied tiredly. I suppose I hadn't really given him a chance. Mind you, I don't thank that would have mattered, he still wasn't helping.

"Now, if we may continue?"

I nodded a reply

"Now, tell me, your mother, how are you coping with your loss,"

Ah. The question I'd been dreading. Because to be perfectly honest, I hadn't, and I didn't want to think about it. I thought about it every single minute of the day and night, I didn't need to tell anyone else about it.

"Yeah, yeah fine. Everyone's been very supportive of me," I hid the wobble in my voice with a cough, and he didn't seem to notice. Some shrink he was.

He gave a sigh as his watch beeped. "Oh, look at the time, I'm afraid our session is over, until next week Madeline,"

I sprang up, neglecting to correct him. The quicker I was out of the office the better. He held open the door, and I gave him a strained smile before swiftly exiting the room. I couldn't run down the steps quick enough, shoes slapping off the floorboards, and sprinted out to my car, unlocking the door and flinging myself behind the wheel. That was when the tears started.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white, and screwed my eyes tight shut. When was this going to get better? I didn't see an end, just darkness, and loneliness and guilt and fear and dread. The sleepless nights, the panic attacks, the constant worry and paranoia. Those few days had wrecked me completely. I looked in the mirror at my bloodshot eyes before shaking my head.

"Oh, pull yourself together Clark!" I muttered darkly before rubbing my face in my hands.

My fingers lingered over the scar on my cheek, Red John's permanent reminder. The doctor had warned me that it would probably never fade completely, it had been too deep. Now it served as a sobering reminder. I shook my head again, starting the car and rolled down the windows before driving off. Maybe the wind would blast away some of the worry. But even if it didn't, I didn't want to turn up to work like this.

It was a quiet Saturday morning, and the traffic was good. I made good time, reaching the office in half an hour before pulling up at my usual spot outside. A shining blue Citreon DS sat nearby, and with a relieved smile, I realised that Jane was already here. I'd need a good cup of tea to revive me after that appointment.

The elevator door pinged and I stepped out, heading over to my desk. I received a small smile from Van Pelt on the way, which I returned, before sitting down and stuffing my car keys in the drawer. Jane sat up straight at his position on the couch, took one look at me before springing up, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the kitchen, shouting in a sing-song voice "Tea!"

He sat me down, humming a cheerful tune as he busied himself filling the kettle and milking and sugaring the cups. He swirled around while the water was boiling, fixing me with his all knowing eyes. A smirk appeared on his face.

"Had fun at the shrink?"

I rolled my eyes, and that was enough to tell him what I thought of the whole affair. He gave a little chuckle before pouring the water into the cups. I accepted my own happily, taking a neat sip before giving a sigh.

"Oh god, I need this," I muttered, closing my eyes contentedly. That was another reason I needed work. It helped me forget, if only for a little while.

"So I take it that it didn't go well," Jane sat down opposite with his own mug

"What gave it away?" it was supposed to be a rhetorical question. I should have known he's answer it.

"Well, you still seem tense. Your eyes are a little red, probably from crying but it could be the lack of sleep. Your appointment finished at ten, but here you are nearly an hour later,"

"The traffic was bad," I lied swiftly. He pointed a finger

"Liar. Ten o'clock on saturday, it's never bad,"

I ignored him, "And I wasn't crying. I had the window open, it was blowing in my eyes, making them water," What a pathetic excuse.

He gave a sigh, "You don't need to lie to me Maddy, you know that. I've been there,"

"Yes well, maybe I'm just not ready to admit anything," I frowned stubbornly, watching the tea swill around the cup.

"Well, when you are," he didn't need to continue. I started to fidget with my scar.

"What's worrying you?"

"Hmmm?" I looked up confused.

He pointed at my hand, which was running down the length of the cut, slowly, over and over. I realised what I was doing and stopped, sitting on my hands to stop myself fidgeting.

"Nothing. I'm fine, honest," He raised an eyebrow

"How's the insomnia?"

"Jane! Please, I've just had an hour of constant interrogation, I don't need this!"

He held up his hands in surrender, and I groaned, feeling guilty. Trust me to push away the only people I had left.

"Sorry-"

"Nah, don't worry about it," he smiled. Oh God, that smile made me weak at the knees.

"No really, I'm sorry, your only trying help and I'm acting like a three year old throwing a tantrum,"

He gave a short laugh before taking another sip of tea. I did the same, draining the cup.

"Right, work to be done, some of us can't spend all day dozing on sofas and drinking tea," I chirped, standing up and heading to the office.

"Meh, I'm just saving my energy for more important things other than typing,"

"Oh yes, like what?" I countered over my shoulder.

Lisbon appeared from along the corridor, getting the attention of the team and stopping Jane's answer.

"We've got a stabbing, university soil, take two cars incase we need to split," The team moved into action on her words.

I jumped as a voice whispered in my ear "For important things like this,"

I gave myself a shake before sighing and following the eager consultant out of the door.

* * *

**Oh yeah, it has STARTED! **

**New readers, ye be warned. As my older readers will tell you, Maddy likes a good cup of tea. There never seems to be a chapter without one.**

**I'm also planning on having a lot more tension between the two...this should be fun :)**

**REVIEW!!!**


	2. Scarlet Lions

**Righty-oh, onwards with chapter one! **

**Exams are all finished (until later this year) so I now have two days off! Whoopee! **

**Disclaimer: The Mentalist and its characters belong to CBS. Maddy Clark belongs to me**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Scarlet Lions**

**_Last Chapter..._**

_"We've got a stabbing, university soil, take two cars incase we need to split," The team moved into action on her words._

_I jumped as a voice whispered in my ear "For important things like this,"_

_I gave myself a shake before sighing and following the eager consultant out of the door._

_

* * *

There was blood. A lot _of blood. A pool of it, soaking into the dirt at the edge of the grass. And for the first time since my early days as a CSI, it made me feel squeamish. If it had been a shooting, or a bludgeoning, or a strangling I would have been okay, but it wasn't. The boys shirt was open, and the jagged would was visible under the mass of clotted blood.

I saw my mother's face flash before me, the image of the blood stained carpet in my old flat, I could hear Red John's mocking voice in my head. The world spun slightly, my throat dried up and my heart thudded in my head. I froze where I stood, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath before looking around. Luckily, no one had seen my little episode. Pulling myself together, I automatically went into crime-scene-analyst-mode and stepped closer to the body.

"So, sharp forced trauma to the chest, M.E. says he died between nine and eight hours ago," Lisbon filled us in "So that puts time of death between 2:30 and 3:30 am, give or take,"

"Do we have an ID?" Jane asked, and she shook her head.

"Nothing on him, forensics are you going to run his prints, see what we get,"

"That's weird, most students carry their ID with them," I muttered, crouching down to take a closer look.

"What makes you so sure he's a student," Jane asked. He had a point.

"What's with the flag?," I picked up a stick, poking the tiny flag so it flipped onto its side. "Scarlet Lions,"

"Football team?" Rigsby asked, peering over my shoulder

"Looks like it,"

Under the words sat a roaring red lion, standing out on the yellow background. The flag was dirty and bloodstained, with a slight rip in one side. It looked like the boy had been holding it when he died.

"Why didn't he fight back? No defensive wounds, you would have thought he'd have fought against the attacker," His wrists and lower arms were free from cuts or bruises, pale in the morning light.

And then his phone started to ring. Vibrating in his pocket, a worried caller. I looked at Lisbon who sighed before asking me to hand it to her.

"Why don't I do it-" Jane began to ask, but was soon interrupted by a resounding "NO!" from the rest of the team. I had to stop myself from smiling at the hurt look on his face.

Lisbon opened the phone and put it to her ear. I could hear a frantic voice in the background, a stream of words.

"Jimmy, where the heel are you, I'm worried sick, if mom finds out that I've lost you'll she'll kill me, get you ass back here!" The man was shouting and Lisbon had to hold her ear away from the phone until he had finished.

"Excuse me, this is Agent Lisbon, CBI speaking, I'm afraid there's been an incident concerning Jimmy,"

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Would it be possible to speak to you in person?" Lisbon asked, and the man stuttered out an address. Lisbon hung up the phone.

"Right, lets get going,"

* * *

"I can't believe he's dead!" Kevin Walker was sitting, staring into space, pale white and shaking.

"When was the last time you saw your brother Mr Walker?" Lisbon asked

"Last night. He'd turned up friday morning, said he was taking the day off school and wanted to hang out. I couldn't, I had classes so I left him here. When I got home, he'd gone, said that some guy had come to the door and invited him to a party, he'd already left,"

"Do you know who the guy was?"

"No, but it could have been Brad Harris, he throws parties nearly every week." Van Pelt scribbled the name down.

I was shadowing Jane carefully, as he edged around the room, picking up photos and inspecting them, reading trophies sitting on the cabinet, turning over envelopes. He didn't seem to be listening to anything the guy was saying, interested only in the objects around him. Not that I was complaining, compared to my first day working with him, where he had snuck off to explore and encountered a knife wielding maniac, he was behaving, which meant I would have less chance of loosing my job. Although he seemed to have other ideas.

"Ah, Kevin do you mind if I use your bathroom?" He smiled at the boy, who looked a bit taken aback.

"Uh, sure, go ahead. Upstairs and to the right,"

I gave Jane a glare that practically shouted _"What do you think you're doing?!?!" _and he just glanced meaningfully back. How was I supposed to keep an eye on him without looking like I was following him to the bathroom?!

He disappeared out of the room, and I could here his quiet footsteps climb the stairs. I stood, arms crossed, fuming, staring at the wall opposite as if I was trying to drill a hole in it. Rigsby shot me a sympathetic glance, and I rolled my eyes.

And then suddenly my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I jumped, pulling it out and glaring at the called ID.

_Patrick Jane_

"Uh, sorry, have to take this," I apologised, slipping out to stand in the hallway before answering.

"Coast is clear," came the voice on the other end

"What? What the heck are you talking about? Come to think about it, what are you playing at?!" I snapped in a hushed whisper down the phone

"Oh come on, its the perfect plan. I've just given you an excuse to leave the room," he replied evenly

"Well you could have warned me before hand, but no, you had to sneak off to "Use the bathroom"!,"

"Well, it would have looked a bit suspicious if we'd both asked to use the bathroom at the same time," I felt my cheeks begin to burn, and I was suddenly thankful he wasn't there. I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Right," I squeaked "I'm on my way," before hanging up, giving my face a rub and headed to the stairs.

Luckily, they were out of view from the living rooms occupants, but the noise of my footsteps wasn't. I padded lightly onto the first step, trying not to alert anyone of my presence and stopped myself from grumbling as the floorboard groaned. Slowly but surely, I climbed the stairs, gripping onto the banister tightly as if that would make me lighter. Jane was waiting at the top.

"You took your time," I grinned and I frowned back, still in a mood with him "Kevin's bedroom's straight ahead,"

He swung the door open and we stepped into the room. Or at least tried to. It was like a bomb site, clothes and CDs and books littered everywhere. The walls were covered in posters, with photos dotted around between them. A laptop sat on the unmade bed, stand-by light flashing, its cable twisted into knots. And the place stank, like a mixture of dirty clothes, unwashed human and old pizza. The latter was explained my a mouldy pizza box lying open on the floor. I wrinkled my nose.

"Euch, typical student," I muttered, picking my way through the rubbish on the floor for a closer look at the photos.

I bent down at the wall, squinting in the poor light, which was probably due to the fact that the curtains were still closed. There were many of the same group of friends, four boys and three girls, drunk, sober, partying, relaxing, all together, having a laugh. A small group of the photos consisted of three people, Kevin, and older woman and a teenage boy. Confused, I looked for our murder victim. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you noticed it too?" The voice right beside me made me nearly jump a mile in the air.

"Will you quit that?!" I hissed

"Quit what," he grinned, quite obviously knowing what I meant

"Sneaking up on me," He gave a short laugh before bending down level with me, taking a look at the photos.

"Every family photo in the house contains this boy, not our victim," He said quietly, pointing at the boy.

"So, what you're saying..." I turned around and became suddenly aware of our close proximity. His face was right beside mine, and I could see every detail, the golden hair, the mouth curled in a slight smile, those blue eyes...I felt myself blushing and tried to compose myself, failing. "So what y-your saying is that our victim is not Kevin's brother?"

He smile broadly "Exactly,"

"Then we have a problem," I stated, standing up and unpinning a photo from the wall. "Where is Jimmy Walker?"

* * *

**Oooh, slightly new layout for the intro, thought I'd swap it around a bit, just for fun :)**

**I had written a little more than that, but I cut it back. I know how you all love cliff hangers ;)**

**Wow, it's amazing where inspiration comes from. I couldn't think of a good second name for the victim's family. I was eating Walker's salt and vinegar crisps. I put two and two together xD**

**I am also quite proud of the fact that I used Mom instead of the British Mum. Oh yeah, I'm good xD**

**REVIEW!!!**


	3. Bloodshot Eyes

**Just watch the episode with Bosco ;( So sad :(**

**Anyway, onwards :) While writing this, there's one song that I seem to play constantly. It kind of fits the Jane/Maddy relationship, and I really like it. Go search for Never Say Never by The Fray. Its great :)**

**I now have a beta :D Three cheers for _Sarcasm- The Lowest Form Of Wit. _Thankyou!**

**Disclaimer: The Mentalist and its characters belong to CBS. Maddy Clark belongs to me**

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**Chapter 2 - Bloodshot Eyes**

**_Last Chapter..._**

_"So, what you're saying..." I turned around and became suddenly aware of our close proximity. His face was right beside mine, and I could see every detail, the golden hair, the mouth curled in a slight smile, those blue eyes...I felt myself blushing and tried to compose myself, failing. "So what y-your saying is that our victim is not Kevin's brother?"_

_He smile broadly "Exactly,"_

_"Then we have a problem," I stated, standing up and unpinning a photo from the wall. "Where is Jimmy Walker?"_

_

* * *

_

"Now pick a card. Don't show me, just pick it in your mind," Jane instructed, and I focused my thoughts on the Queen of Hearts in his left hand.

"Right, I've picked," I told him, eager to prove him wrong. He started to grin.

"Queen of hearts," He stated, dropping his hands, his cocky smile growing at the scowl on my face.

"Right again. How _are_ you doing it?" I asked, sitting back on the leather seat. This was how we'd been passing the last ten minutes in the car. Card games and tricks. Jane seemed to keep a pack in his pocket at all times.

"Can't tell you. You don't want me to be hunted down and killed by the magic circle do you?" He gave a sly smirk.

"Fine, I'll work it out myself," I took the two different coloured cards from him, turning them over and looking closely for any distinguishing features. Nothing. Not a mark of a fold. I gave up that idea, and began to think. "Well, you didn't read my mind,"

"What makes you say that?" Jane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you always claim that there's no such thing as physics, so that rules that out,"

"Good reasoning," He mused, nodding.

I stopped. "If I guess, and you don't specifically tell me how to do it, will you tell me I got it right?"

"Mmmm..." He closed one eye, considering my proposal "Maybe,"

I rolled my eyes "Well, it has to be something to do with human reactions. Or suggestion. Did you suggest it and I didn't notice? Or did I unconsciously give it away?"

He considered it for a moment, "You're getting closer,"

"Unconscious gestures? Glances, hand movement. That's it isn't it!" I asked excitedly, and he nodded.

"Got it. Anyone can do it, they just have to be confident enough for the person to trust them, not notice what they're doing,"

"So I could do it?" I asked, picking the cards back up

"Well, you could try. It's all about observation," he replied doubtfully

"Oi! I was a CSI for six years, observation is my middle name!" I replied confidently, and he laughed.

"We'll see about that,"

I held up the cards, "Pick a card and focus on it,"

Jane nodded, not looking at either off them, but instead, staring straight ahead at me, unblinking. A small, lazy smile was playing across his features, and it was quite clear that he wasn't going to play fair. Plus, the staring was beginning to make me blush, so I focused my attention on his arms. But they were sitting lightly on his knees, again, not moving. I frowned, furrowing my brow and focused. He ginned even more.

"Oh I give up! Spoil-sport!" I chucked the cards back on his knee and she laughed, scooping them up.

"You two are easily amused" came Cho's dry voice from the front, book propped up against the steering wheel. Rigsby sat in the passenger seat, stuffing his face with a sandwich. His third since we'd arrived.

Why were we sitting trying to pass the time in the car? We were waiting. Waiting outside the little run down house that belonged to our missing person's newest friend. His brother had told us about the new guy, a suspicious boy who never seemed to say much, but made up for that in atmosphere he projected. He seemed to be a no-nonsense, dangerous boy. A bit of a rebel. And Jimmy followed him like a sheep.

The house was in a run down area of the city, one window boarded up and the others dirty and cracked. The fence was splintered, the pain chipping and the grass was overgrown, weeds sprouting between the garden slabs.

"Wait, here we go," Rigsby pointed out, a figure walking towards the gait, having just excited the house. The two men in the front of the car opened their doors, hands at their belts, getting out cautiously.

"Kurt Lamburt? CBI!" And the boy darted away from the car, running down the street.

Cho and Rigbsy slammed the doors shut, sprinting out from the car after him. I hung back, unsure how to react. My job was to make sure Jane didn't do anything stupid. And I was sure the guys could take care of this themselves. Never the less, I opened my door, putting one foot out of the car and peered over the roof. Cho was closest to the boy, who had now looped back, hopping over the garden fences, coming back towards the house. Rigsby was picking himself back up off the ground, where numerous trash cans lay, contents scattered, having been used to trip him up. He looked unharmed, but severely annoyed.

And then Kurt jumped over the garden fence closest to the car. I spun around, spotting the wasteland behind the houses behind us, his obvious destination. And he was coming closer, and it didn't look like he'd spotted me. I made my decision, jumped back into the car and lunged across Jane, grabbing his door handle and flinging it open. There was a dull thunk, a grunt of pain, and the sound of someone falling onto the ground. More footsteps approached and I heard Rigsby's aggravated voice.

"These pants were clean on!"

I gave a slight chuckle and then stopped. I was still lying on top of Jane, hand reached out to the door. I looked up, to find him with a look of slight shock on his face which was slowly turning to a grin, cards in his hands. I coughed, embarrassed, and slid back onto my seat, closing my own door and brushing myself down. Throughout the rest of the journey, my eyes didn't leave the window.

* * *

The sun was nearly set, and with it, my happy mood was evaporating. The night was setting in, with hours of torture ahead. I knew I'd get little sleep tonight. The dreams were enough to keep me awake.

I entered the house, hanging my keys up in the hall when I realised that I wasn't the first home. Grace was wandering about around whistling to herself, sorting her hair and grabbing a quick bite to eat. I'd been sharing the flat with Grace since I'd come out of hospital, having found it impossible to go back into my old flat. Grace had offered me a room, and I'd accepted gratefully. We'd grown to be close friends since then, although I often felt guilty. My nightmares could become vocal, and I was worried that I'd wake her. But Grace had been nothing but welcoming. The arrangement worked.

"Off out again?" I asked, taking my coat off and hanging it up

"I've got a date" Grace replied happily

"Anyone I know?" I asked with a small smile

"No, no you don't know him," Grace replied quickly. Too quickly. My smile grew slightly.

"Well, have fun. Say hi to Rigsby for me," I told her, heading towards my room

"I w- hey! It's not Rigsby! There's nothing between us!" She protested, cheeks flushing red.

"Okay, okay, nothing going on. I won't tell," I grinned, running out of reach, the pillow she had just chucked hitting my door as I closed it, laughing.

I heard the front door shut and Grace shout a goodbye, and my grin slowly faded. I was alone again, with my thoughts, the same ones that tormented me. When I closed my eyes I could see today's body, the stabbed victim, the nameless boy. And the image changed, my old flat, my mother, the blood, the smiley face on the wall in her blood. My eyes shot open again. It was going to be a long night.

With a sigh, I dragged the duvet off my bed, heading for the living room. I chucked it onto the sofa, flicking the TV on and headed for the fridge inside sat the giant tub of ice cream which I had bought for this very occasion. The "make me feel better" ice cream. Chocolate fudge brownie. Yum.

And there I sat, for around three hours, gradually getting closer to sleep, watching any random rubbish that was on. Well, when I say any, that does not include horror. I can't stand the stuff. So I settled with an old movie, The Time-Machine by H.G. Wells, the old 1960 adaption. But my attention wasn't quite on it. It was drifting, and I kept having to shake myself awake. But it didn't work.

_The rope was tight around my wrists, and my mouth was dry. His laugh sent a shiver down my spine, and Gary's cold stare was boring into me. And then I felt the pain of the knife on my cheek, and he disappeared, and the image of my mother flickered through my mind. It was replaced by Gary, gun pointed, sweating, shouting noiseless words, and the gun went off with a bang..._

I awoke, shaking, the scream about to escape my lips. I managed to silence it, but the bang echoed again, and I sat up straight, looking around the room, wide eyed. Again, the bang rang throughout the room, and I realised that there was someone at the door. I hurried off the chair, my balance slightly off, knocking into the coffee table, and peered through the peep-hole. It was Patrick Jane.

"Oh crap!" I muttered, looking around the room. It was a mess. Not to mention the fact that I was a mess. I gritted my teeth and opened the door.

"Hey," He smiled, holding up what he was carrying. It was a bottle of red wine. "I thought you might be up late so I thought I'd stop by with this,"

"Oh thanks," I smiled, letting him in. "You really shouldn't have," He looked over to the sofa, duvet tumbled onto the floor and the old ice cream tub empty on the table.

"Lets see, duvet, empty ice cream carton, blood-shot eyes...another sleepless night?" He asked, and I frowned. I hated how he could read me like a book.

My silence answered him, and with a sigh, he began to open the cupboard doors in the kitchen, searching. With a satisfied "Aha!", he pulled out two wine glasses, uncorking the bottle and filling them up. He handed one over, and I accepted with a slight smile.

"The Time Machine" was still on as I moved the duvet to let us sit down on the sofa. Jane was looking content, sipping at his wine, eyes focused on the screen. My mind was wandering back to my dream, my breathing picking up slightly as I found myself running my fingers down the length of the scar on my cheek, unblinking, my other hand clutching tightly at the wine glass. I jumped slightly at the gentle touch on my hand, pulling it away from my face. Jane squeezed my fingers and I clung back as if life itself depended on it.

Taking a deep breath, I curled my feet up onto the chair, leaning against his shoulder. He shifted slightly, getting comfortable, sipping his wine. And it was there that I slowly drifted off to sleep, still clutching his hand lightly. My first night of dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Yup, I think I've gotten the whole American lingo down. I think. Correct me if I'm wrong :P**

**Angst + Fluff = Maddy/Patrick :P**

**REVIEW!!!**


	4. Red Rose

**I'm extremely sorry :3 I've abandoned you guys :/ All because I've been obsessing over Doctor Who. But fear not, here is the next instalment AND as an extra something, you can expect some fanart for the fic on my DeviantArt account, Timelady-Victorious. So go have a look soon!**

**The Mentalist belongs to CBS**  
**Maddy belongs to me :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Red Rose**

**_Last chapter..._**

_Taking a deep breath, I curled my feet up onto the chair, leaning against his shoulder. He shifted slightly, getting comfortable, sipping his wine. And it was there that I slowly drifted off to sleep, still clutching his hand lightly. My first night of dreamless sleep._

_

* * *

_

Grace Van Pelt had returned late in the night, smile on her face, still grinning after her farewell kiss with Rigsby. It had been a perfect night, and she felt like she was walking on air. He'd been sweet, and polite and charming and everything she could ever want from a man. Yes it had been a perfect night.

She's let herself into the flat, stopping as she closed the door. There was the sound of breathing, but not just a single occupant. There were two. Flicking the light on briefly, she found herself smiling once again at the sight that met her. Patrick Jane was half sitting, half lying on the sofa, one arm hanging over the edge of the sofa, empty wine glass balanced. The other was wrapped protectively round the sleeping figure of Maddy, curled up, sleeping soundly, no nightmares, no screaming. The fingers on one hand were clutching tightly at Jane's waist coat, as if he were a giant cuddly toy. Both were breathing softly, unaware of her presence. With one last look at the sleeping pair, Grace turned off the light and head for bed.

* * *

When I first woke up, my initial thought was that I was in my bed. I was so warm, so comfortable. I could hear my mother pottering about in the kitchen, putting the kettle on, talking to a male voice. Someone on the TV? She did that, chatted to people on the TV, as if she could hear them. I gave a smile and then stopped. It couldn't be my mother. My mother was dead. So why had I slept so soundly?

And then I remembered. About Jane, and the wine, and falling asleep beside him. I could still smell his aftershave, but he wasn't there. Had he just gotten up and left? Not a word? My god, had I said something in my sleep? Scared him away? I was such an idiot! And then I heard the male voice again. It was clearer now, as was the females. It was Grace.

"And is this every night?"

"Almost every night. Sometimes there's no noise, but she looks just as dreadful in the morning, so I don't think the dreams have gone,"

"No, they'll stay for a while,"

"Well not last night. It's the first night I've seen her sleep so soundly,"

I realised they were talking about me, and decided to show that I was waking up. I gave a great yawn, sitting up, and rubbing my eyes.

"Ah, sleeping beauty is awake anyway," Jane said loudly and I could hear the smile in his voice. I grabbed at a pillow, and chucked it in his direction. From the laugh that I recieved in return, I missed completely.

Once my eyes had finally decided to open, I stumbled towards the kitchen, accepting a cup of tea with a thankful grunt, and sat down at the table to drink it. Jane was leaning against the counted with his, hair in all directions. This however, was not a bad thing, it actually made him looked, if possible, even hotter-

_Woah, get those thoughts in order Maddy, do you want to make a fool of yourself?_

Once I'd successfully grown up again and no longer sounded like a teenager, I offered him some toast.

"No thanks, I better get going," He grabbed his jacket, placing the cup on the counter "I'll see you ladies at work,"

And he was gone. Before I was even that awake.

* * *

When I reached work in the morning, the office was buzzing. Everyone was running around, in full work mode. It got like that here during cases, and it was a good feeling, having a set task to do, solving the mystery. Lisbon was already there, waiting to talk to the team about today's next course of action. While waiting for the others, I logged on to the computer, and started searching for anything I could about the missing boy.

Everyone these days were on some sort of social networking site, so that's where I began, searching through Facebook and Myspace. And I found him, with a very interesting message posted from Kurt on his page.

_The meeting is going ahead. Check emails for details_

What meeting was this? Drugs? Or just a bit of harmless fun? I noted it down, and called Lisbon over.

"Right, we need to get forensics' report on his computer. See if we can find this email. Good work Clark."

Smiling, happy that I'd been of some use, I headed out into the lobby to buy a bottle of water from the machine. The lift pinged, and a courier stepped out, holding a dozen red roses. He started to head towards the office. I grabbed my bottle of water as it rolled up.

"Someone's lucky," I commented in a friendly tone

"Yup," He replied "You don't know a Miss...Maddy Clark," He asked, checking the label.

"What? I mean, yes that's me!" I blurted out, dropping my water and bending to scoop it up again.

"Well, here you go!" He chuckled, handing them over and disappearing back into the lift.

I looked at the label. All it read was: _With love from an Admirer. _Weird. Red John had sent me flowers before, but it wasn't roses. And he wouldn't leave a message like that. I realised I'd been standing in the lobby for an age, and headed back to the office.

Jane came out of the kitchen area, carrying a cup of tea. He smiled as he spotted the flowers.

"Ahh, someone's got an admirer I see. For you?" I nodded quietly.

"You..you don't know who their from?" I asked hopefully. He dashed those hopes in a second.

"Nope. Don't have a clue. I'd never send roses myself. Too cliché. And red...no, I prefer brighter flowers. But of course, they're beautiful all the same,"

Trust Jane. Sometimes he's so tactless. I gave a sigh, feeling like an idiot and headed towards the sink. "I better put them in water,"

I found an old vase under the sink, and sat them in it. They looked beautiful, but somehow, Jane had put a damper on things. I'd have to resign myself to the fact that he's never be interested. But I just wished he's stop sending mixed messages, like turning up last night. Still feeling deflated, I left the flowers beside the sink.

The rest of the team had gathered, and Lisbon started to give out instructions. Rigsby and Van Pelt were to ask around campus about the dead boy. She was going to go and see Jimmy Walker's mother again. Cho, Jane and I were going to the meeting spot. Forensics and just gotten back with the details of the email. A park not to far from the campus. With the details exchanged, we headed out.

* * *

"Well...not much here apart from this old magazine and a bear can. Could be anyone's," Cho commented, looking down at the ground where the directions had led us.

Jane stooped to the ground, taking a closer look. "Well, these tracks are recent. There were...four people, three adult, one smaller. They headed...in that direction," He stood up pointing to the distance, before walking off.

"So you're a tracker now too?" I asked, hurrying to keep up

"No, that was just common sense. You can see the four different shoe prints, and the direction they were stepping in," He explained.

"We should get the dogs in," Cho replied.

"But what would we get them to track? You said yourself that the magazine might not be theirs,"

"We could try something if Jimmy's,"

"Umm...guys," Jane stopped our conversation, and I looked up. We'd left the park via a gate on the opposite side to the one we'd entered. Across the road was an alley way, dark and dirty. And on the ground, was what was unmistakably, a blood stain. We hurried over.

"Well...it's a lot of blood, but not enough to die from." I looked closely. "We'll need forensics in."

"There's more here," Cho called, down the alley from us "And shell casings,"

"Gang fight?" I asked

"Possibly. I'll make the call,"

"Jane- Jane?" I looked around. The consultant was gone. With a groan, I ran back out into the street, looking both ways. There was no sign.

I spent ten minutes looking for him, walking the full length of the street once, and then twice, and then heading back into the park. I even checked the car, but he was nowhere to be seen. When I was about ready to give up, I spotted him, blonde hair, heading back towards the alley. He was carrying something bright, and when he spotted me, standing, a furious look on my face, he headed over.

"Where have you been? You can't just disappear and not say where you- Oh!"

I took what he was offering me, looking at it in shock. He gave a grin.

"Now that, is what I call a bunch of flowers," He said quietly.

I only smiled, staring at the giant bouquet that I had been handed, full of yellows and pinks and whites. The prettiest flowers I had seen in a ling time, beautifully arranged.

All was forgiven.

* * *

**Oh Jane you charmer *blush* :3**

**Haha, hope it was worth the wait :L**

**REVIEW!**


	5. Red Faced and Redder Hands

**OH MY GOD LOOK WHAT THIS IS! ITS AN UPDATE! ZOMGGG!**

**Sorry about that guys! I hope you haven't given up hope on me :( I've been sooooo busy this past year having started uni now, and I'm finally off on holiday for summer, so I think it's time for an update. And what an update it shall be! I've had an idea since the beginning of the story where I wanted it to go, but no idea how to get it there, and I've finally decided that it's time to start the major plot points. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it's worth the wait :)**

**The Mentalist belongs to CBS**

**Maddy belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Red faced and redder hands**

_**Last chapter...**_

_I took what he was offering me, looking at it in shock. He gave a grin._

_"Now that, is what I call a bunch of flowers," He said quietly._

_I only smiled, staring at the giant bouquet that I had been handed, full of yellows and pinks and whites. The prettiest flowers I had seen in a ling time, beautifully arranged._

_All was forgiven._

* * *

Picture this. You're sitting in a car, fingers clutching so tightly at the wheel that it's actually painful. The one thing, other than curling in a ball and dying, that you want to do is smash your face of said wheel, but unfortunately that would result in the death of the cars occupants as it drove into another vehicle. So instead you sit there, face bright red as you fight back tears of frustration and embarrassment. Oh, and lets not forget that you're sharing the car with a man who can read emotions like a book. That's where I was.

How did I get in that situation you may ask? The flowers. The damn flowers. The flowers not left on the back seat of the car.

Cho had stayed at the scene to await forensics, while Jane and I headed back to the car. Lisbon wanted us back at base to look at a new lead, and so we'd headed off. I was elated after Jane's gift, and feeling more confident than I had in months. He was sitting in the passenger seat joking away, making me laugh as usual, and for some stupid reason, I decided it was time to bite the bullet and ask him. Oh dear lord why.

"What would you say to dinner, just the two of us," I asked, the laughter from his last comment still in my voice. He paused, smile slipping slightly.

"Like...a date?"

"Yes, like a date," My own smile was slipping, his time to answer making me nervous. He was silent again.

The silence may have only lasted a few seconds. It felt like hours however. With each moment, I shrivelled a little more, the weight of what I had just said crushing the breath out of me.

"I don't think it would be a good idea Maddy. I mean, professionally, and...well, we both have other reasons not to," Jane replied in a quiet, suddenly serious voice. I didn't answer straight away. "You're not mad..are you?"

"Of course not!" I blurted, feeling like such a fool "No, you're right, you're right I don't know what I was think, it was just the flowers and spur of the moment, and gosh I've made a fool of myself, can we just forget this never happened, lets focus on the case, stupid, stupid..." I tailed off, and the silence continued. And there I was, in that horrible position. I'd possibly just destroyed the best friendship I had, the only thing that held me together. What. An Idiot.

The journey continued in absolute silence, and just as we reached the point where I thought my head might explode from all the thoughts blocking it, Jane, sat up straight and told be to turn around.

"What-why?" I asked, frustration evident in my voice.

He pressed the button for the window, and as the cold night air streamed in, I heard it. The ringing shots of guns being fired.

"Could it be..."

"Our gangs fighting," Jane finished.

I spun the SUV around, and headed back the way we came, the sounds getting louder as we went. Half way back to the crime scene, we hit a small run down area of town, and the shots stopped. I slowed the car, listening carefully over the sound of the engine. Nothing. It was silent, with only the sound of cats fighting in the next street to punctuate the gloom. And then in from the darkness of the nearest alley, a low, painful moan echoed.

The SUV was guided as far into the alley as possible before the walls narrowed, making it impossible to continue any further. I drew my gun, telling Jane to stay where he was and slowly got out of the car. The moaning was louder, interrupted by a gurgling cough. The voice didn't have long t live. I continued down he alley as it widened again, leading to a dead end. On the floor, lying in some smashed cardboard boxes was a dying man. Not the one we were looking for, but he needed help all the same. I bent down beside him, pulling the scarf I had been wearing around my neck off, and applied pressure the the gaping wound in his chest. The blood soaked in quickly, his breathing ragged. I jumped as a car door slammed, and turned around to find Jane had joined me.

"I told you to stay in the car!" I snapped

"He needs help," was the simple reply.

The injured man's groans turned to one's of distress, and I heard a click behind us. Jane was tapping my shoulder, looking ahead. I slowly looked up, and my blood ran cold. The gang fight was not over, and we were on the middle of it. A group on each side, guns drawn, pointed at each other, teeth gritted. The leaders began to shout, and in a split second, I screamed at Jane, pulling him to the ground. The gunshots echoed around us, shells hitting the floor and bouncing. One rolled to my feet as I tried to crawl towards cover, dragging Jane with me. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. The shots stopped for a second as the gang members found cover and reloaded.

I looked up, and spotted more bodies, both dead and wounded on the ground around us. A dumpster sat mere meters away. I shuffled forward and heard a groan behind me as I pulled Jane again. I froze, and turned around. Blood was soaking into Jane's trouser leg, just above the knee, he was holding it stiffly with both hands, the colour drained from his face.

"Oh my god...Patrick..." I uttered, horrified. I needed to get him out of here.

"Uhh Maddy, I feel a bit faint," He uttered in a shaky voice. I looked at him, and in those bright blue eyes, I saw a deep rooted fear. And that made me terrified.

I fumbled in my pockets, searching for something, anything that would help, my hands settling on my waist. My belt was ripped off, tied around his leg just above the wound and tightened. He stifled a groan as I did this, growing even paler. I could feel him shaking, a cold sweat appearing on his face. I wanted to hold him more than anything, but I knew I couldn't. It was about killing me.

But this wasn't about me. I had to think about Jane. If the bullet had hit an artery, he could bleed out and...well I didn't want to think about that. All I knew was that I was determined not to lose anyone else.

I could see the SUV from where we lay, but the gang fight lay between us and it. There was only one thing for it, we needed back up and quick. But there was no way Jane could move that far. I looked back to the dumpster, and made a split decision. Hands hooked under each arm, I began to drag Jane behind it. His moans grew louder until he was nearly screaming with each pull. The sound of his pain nearly brought tears to my eyes again, but I held them back, determined to be strong. His shaking increased, and I could hear him panting for breath now, the shock setting in. With one last heave, I settled him back down, sitting up in a crouching position and taking my jacket off, draping it over his shivering body.

"Right stay here,"

"I-I'm not g-going anywhere," his voice quivered through his attempt at a joke. His eyes were drooping, and I leaned in close.

"Look, Jane listen to me," his eyes shut. "Patrick!" I gave a gentle shake and they flickered open. He groaned again.

"Please, stay with me, you need to stay awake okay? Focus on something, anything a happy thought,"

His eyes were distant, far away. I found my self pleading in my head. He couldn't die. Not Jane. Not Patrick.

That thought spurred me on, shuffling out from behind the dumpter. A hand caught mine, pulling me back.

"Maddy. Be careful,"

I nodded and turned away before Jane could see the single tear than had escaped and was now drawing a line down my cheek.

* * *

**I wanted to write more...but hey, I'm back in business, so...CLIFFHANGER LOLZ**

**Hope it was worth the wait :D**

**Review!**


	6. Heartfelt

**OH ZOMG ANOTHER UPDATE IN THE SAME WEEK? IS SHE MAD?**

**Yeah, I feel kinda bad for leaving you guys hanging, and I'm on a roll now so...update anyone? Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, I hope you're enjoying it :D Things will start getting rather frustrating from here on :D**

**I listened to My Immortal by Evanescence while listening to this, it was very helpful :)**

**The Mentalist belongs to CBS**

**Maddy belongs to me.**

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Heartfelt**

_**Last chapter...**_

_I looked up, and spotted more bodies, both dead and wounded on the ground around us. A dumpster sat mere meters away. I shuffled forward and heard a groan behind me as I pulled Jane again. I froze, and turned around. Blood was soaking into Jane's trouser leg, just above the knee, he was holding it stiffly with both hands, the colour drained from his face.  
_

* * *

You see scenes like this in movies, where the hero or heroine bravely runs through a field of bullets, missing each one and saving the day, brave, bold, selfless. I was slightly less brave however, but I pressed on. I didn't run either. I crawled, hoping that the two gangs would be so busy shooting each other that they would miss me. I'd gotten about half way when they eventually did spot me. And they stopped shooting for a second. Maybe they wouldn't shoot a girl, maybe they had come to their senses. I was wrong, they'd just been shocked into silence for a second. They then reloaded and continued.

A bullet hit the ground by my left hand, and I realised that I too was becoming a target. Another whizzed past my head, and I even felt the wind of its movement. Time to get out of the firing range. It was then that I picked myself up and sprinted for my life to the other side of the alley. Bricks showered dust onto my hair as stray bullets sunk into the walls about me. Another gang member fell to my right. And then I felt a searing, burning pain on my left arm as a bullet grazed the skin and kept going. I bit my lip to stop myself crying out, stumbled forward and grunted something hard and rectangular stopped my fall. The door of the SUV. Ignoring the pain, I jumped inside and slammed the door. The front windscreen shattered as a bullet hit the glass, and a squeal escaped my mouth.

The radio sat in the middle of the dashboard, and I grabbed it, slamming my finger down on the button.

"Control, come in control, this is Agent Clark, I need urgent assistance, man down, I repeat, man down,"

There was a tense moment of static before I heard the calm voice of the man on the other end.

"Received Agent Clark, please confirm you're position,"

I gave a relieved sigh, "We're in the 2nd Alley on Havers Street, gang fight in process,"

"Uniform is on they're way," Came the reply.

I chanced a look out of the window and froze. One of the gangs were moving to cover. And behind that cover lay the injured consultant. If they found him, there was no telling what they would do...leave him, or kill him?

I started the engine of the SUV and tried to get further down the alley. The sound of metal scratching against brick told me I was as far as was possible. There was a ping, the left hand wing mirror flew off, landing under the car. I swore quietly under my breath and went to open the door. Nothing. I was wedged to far into the alley. I closed my eyes for two seconds, and then the idea hit me. I stabbed at the button, the sirens shrieking on. The gangs flinched and started running. Some disappeared into a building on the right hand side of the alley, the others...well the others started heading the only way they could. Towards the SUV, guns drawn. Panicking, I flung the gears into reverse and put my foot down. With another shriek of metal, the SUV rocketed backwards down the alley, heading for the entrance. Another bullet flew through the already broken window, embedding itself in the passenger seat head rest. Finally I cleared the alley, but just as the coast was clear, a marked police car appeared, swerving out of the way just in time as the SUV flew out of the alley. With a squeal of brakes, I finally stopped and flung the car door open.

The remaining gang members were being arrested by the newly arrived police, and my own safety had been forgotten. I sprinted back down the alley, ignoring the pain in my arm, and ducked behind the dumpster. A small pool of blood had appeared around Jane's leg, the the cold sweat was dripping off his face. He was still concious, but only just.

"Jane?"

His eyes darted to mine, the pain he was suffering evident straight away. He attempted to smile, but it turned to a grimace.

"You m-made it back alive," He whispered, still trying to be light hearted. I gave a weak smile back, trying to stay strong.

"You're turn now,"

His eyes flickered shut briefly, and the sound of my rapidly beating heart grew louder in my head. I gently picked his head of the ground, resting it on my knees.

"Hey, come on you, stay awake," I urged him, ruffling the golden locks. He didn't reply, but opened his eyes again. I could still feel him shaking.

"Y-you're bleeding," He noticed.

"Just a scratch, don't worry about," I'd almost forgotten about the graze on my arm, and it throbbed as I thought about it.

The sound of more sirens punctuated the gloom, and an ambulance pulled up at the end of the alley. The paramedics climbed out, and I called them over.

"What happened here?"

"Gunshot wound the the leg, I don't know if its a through and through or not," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The paramedic just nodded, and they began to work.

I sat beside them through it as they secured a proper tourniquet to his leg. I sat as he cried out when they lifted him onto the stretcher. I sat as they attempted to stop bleeding. I sat as they bound my arm before they led me after the stretcher to the ambulance. By the end, my strength had gone.

I cried freely, my tears growing with each of Jane's groans.

* * *

I jerked awake in my seat, feeling the hand that I was clutching move. Funny how things had come full circle. A year ago Jane had sat at my bedside, waiting for me to wake up. Now the tables had turned, but for some reason, I felt even more alone. The events of that night had left me feeling empty.

Jane was dreaming, his eyelids twitching, his mouth curled in a frown. I could hear him muttering, his heart monitor picking up pace.

"My fault...my fault,"

The beeping increased, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. It had no effect, and he began to toss and turn, becoming more agitated. The nurse came in the room, hearing the machines sounds, and pressed a button. More pain relieving drugs were administered, and Jane settled again. I gave a sigh. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Clark, can I have a word?" Lisbon appeared at the door, and I followed, puzzled. I'd already explained the details of the fight, what did she need to know now?

"Minelli's just been on the phone, we've got a problem,"

My heart began to sink. "He think's I'm to blame,"

Lisbon nodded. "You're going to be issued with a written warning this time. One more strike and you're out,"

"But it wasn't my fault!" I began to protest, but she stopped me

"I know. But Minelli wants someone to blame for this, one of his best men in hospital, a damaged CBI vehicle, and dead suspects. You just happen to be in the firing line,"

I clenched my fists together and ground my jaw. This was going form bad to worse.

"I'm doing my best to keep your job, but you need to help. Just try and be careful from now on, okay? You're a good agent, I don't want to loose you,"

I nodded. "Thank's boss. It's much appreciated."

She gave a small smile."No problem,"

And with that I returned to the room to continue my vigil.

* * *

It was late at night. I can't tell you what time, because I had no idea, but it was late. I could feel my eyes starting to droop again, and the gentle breathing of Jane's drug induced slumber was slowly soothing me to sleep.

I watched him lying there, his face calm, serene. And I ached. The one man that I trusted with my life, who made me feel better, like it was worth living and he didn't want me. All of the so called "signs" I thought I had saw were nothing but him being friendly. I'd not only lost hope, but made a fool of myself doing it. A sigh escaped my lips. And suddenly I found myself talking to Jane's prone body.

"I thought this job was a dead end to begin with. And then I actually met you and I realised how much better it could be. If those...events...had never happened last year, my life would be pretty much perfect now. Apart from this,"

I gave a small, weak laugh. "I don't know of you've noticed, oh what am I talking about, of course you have. You're all I have. I couldn't bare to lose our friendship. It's going to be painful. I want so much more...but I know it can't happen. And I'm...I'm okay with that. But my god you drive me crazy some times! You're frustrating, and rash and foolish, and possible the greatest man I have ever met. You make me feel like a school girl again sometimes. Some days, you even make me forget any of last year ever happened, at least just for a second."

I bit my lip for two seconds, pondering my next thought. Jane's eyes were tightly shut together, still sleeping peacefully. He wasn't hearing a word of this. And maybe it would make me feel better.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is...you might never be able to reciprocate it. But the fact of the matter is...I think I love you Patrick Jane,"

My voice wobbled slightly, but oddly, I _did_ feel better. He would just never know why. Standing up, my throat dry, I went to get a drink.

* * *

The woman left the room, unaware of the patient behind her. Jane's eyes flickered open, having listened to her footsteps fade as she left. He bit back the lump in his throat, emotions in turmoil, head an aching mass of conflicting thoughts.

"Maddy..." he muttered to himself.

Yes. Patrick Jane had heard it all.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUN.**

**Enjoying? Please review :D**


	7. Red with Rage

**Oh...hey there...remember me? The person you probably hate now for not updating? *nervous laughter* I'm still alive! Here, have an update as an apology...it's worth the wait...honest...hehehe...I know its a long chapter...but trust me...you may like this chapter's cliff hanger :3**

**The mentalist belongs to CBS**

**My head belongs to the hungry readers baying for my blood D:**

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Red with Rage**

_**Last chapter...**_

_"I suppose what I'm trying to say is...you might never be able to reciprocate it. But the fact of the matter is...I think I love you Patrick Jane,"_

_My voice wobbled slightly, but oddly, I did feel better. He would just never know why. Standing up, my throat dry, I went to get a drink._

* * *

_The woman left the room, unaware of the patient behind her. Jane's eyes flickered open, having listened to her footsteps fade as she left. He bit back the lump in his throat, emotions in turmoil, head an aching mass of conflicting thoughts._

_"Maddy..." he muttered to himself._

_Yes. Patrick Jane had heard it all._

* * *

"I'll ask you one more time. Where is Jimmy Walker," Rigsby asked calmly, glaring at the young man opposite him. He received a non-committal shrug in return.

"Don't know nothin',"

"We have your phone. We have evidence of both you and Jimmy at the last gang fight you attended. There's no way to hide,"

"Don't know nothin',"

"Where is Jimmy Walker?"

"Don't. Know. Nothin',"

"We have enough evidence to hold you. Officers are on their way to your house as we speak. If you speak now, we can cut you a deal,"

The thug paused for a second, as if considering the proposition.

"Get me my lawyer. Then we talk deals,"

I sighed, slouching against the glass, listening to the conversation. If Jane had been here, he'd have gotten the info already. But he was still stuck in hospital, and in no condition to interview anyone. The door rattled, and I looked up to find Lisbon entering the room. She nodded a greeting, and turned to watch the interview.

"Any luck so far?"

"Nothing, he's started asking for his lawyer, we're getting no where. Any news at the apartments?"

"Van Pelt's just arrived, we'll soon find out. You better get out to the hospital and check on Jane. I've heard that the nurses are being driven nuts,"

"Well that's no surprise," I replied with a small chuckle, before heading to grab my keys out of my desk.

As I turned the corner, a flash of red caught my eye. Sitting on my desk was another bunch of roses, this time even larger than before. I could feel a blush rising on my face and neck already, and I hurried over, grabbing the card before anyone could notice.

_Hey beautiful, _

_Meet me for coffee next tuesday? The little cafe two blocks away, 12pm. _

_See you there,_

_M.L_

Meeting for coffee? This was getting...well I had no idea what to think in truth. Should I go? Ignore it? Maybe it was time to move on. Things with Jane were going nowhere, he'd made that clear...still, it stung slightly to imagine it never passing friendship. But I suppose I'd just need to get used to that. At least he was alive after all. Making a decision to stop off on the way to the hospital for some fruit, I grabbed the roses and my keys and hurried out of the door.

* * *

The nurse at the desk gave a slightly hysterical chuckle as I double checked the ward I'd be heading to. Jane had been moved no that he was recovering. Ignoring her odd response, I took the stairs two at a time, making it to the ward in no time. And then I heard the angry whispering. Reaching a "staff only" door, I paused, listening carefully. Hey what can I say, I'm a nosy person!

_He won't shut UP! Keeps asking to get out._

_He told be to stop being so ignorant. Started making comments on my marriage._

_He didn't!_

_And he told Francis that he should come out of the closet. I didn't even think he was gay!_

_Oh god, I can't wait until he leaves-_

The door swung open, and I quickly dived forward, pretending to have only walked past. The nurses didn't seem to notice me thankfully, and I reached the room without a hitch. Jane was sitting watching the TV, eyes glazed over slightly. He turned around and gave a lazy smile when I entered.

"Grapes. How cliche,"

"Now I can see why the nurses are going mad. I'll leave again if that's what you'd prefer," I scolded lightly, plonking down on the chair beside him. "How's the leg?"

"Twinges occasionally. This morphine stuff is brilliant though, dulls the pain completely,"

"And loosens your tongue even more by the sounds of it,"

"Aww come on," He chuckled "I've only been entertaining myself,"

"At other people's expense Jane! I've said it before, I'll say it again, you need to learn some tact and control yourself! You hurt people the way you speak to them,"

He waved the comment away with a slightly giddy chuckle. He stopped, looking intently at me, blue eyes, hazy from the drugs meeting mine. And once again, I couldn't return his gaze, looking away with a blush that a school girl would have been proud of.

Another lazy chuckle. "You turn a brilliant shade of red when you blush,"

"I do not!" I snapped back, face getting redder by the second.

"And when you get angry, oh there it is, you get little frowny lines on your brow,"

"Thanks Jane. Point out my wrinkles why don't you,"

He shrugged. "It's cute,"

Oh god. My blushing face felt fit to explode. Swallowing deeply, I crossed my legs uncomfortably, trying to find something, anything, to distract me from his comments and stop the butterfly's that were in my chest.

"How's the investigation going?" Oh thank god a change of subject

"So-so. Van Pelt was checking out one of the gang members flats. We'll know more soon,"

"And your therapy sessions," As doped up as he was, I could hear that his voice was more sombre now. I grimaced.

"I missed the last one. With everything going on. I'll have one next Tuesday,"

"And you'll go?"

"I suppose I have to," I said quietly, absent mindedly running my hand down the scar on my cheek. A flash of images ran through my head. A blood stained carpet. A chipped tea cup. An old shack. I suppressed a shudder and gritted my teeth.

"I get out next tuesday,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah,"

We sat in silence after that, the mood having gotten darker, each of us in our own worlds. I vaguely realised that the radio was playing a cheesy 80s song. I zoned in for a second.

_Every now and then I fall apart_  
_And I need you now tonight_  
_And I need you more than ever _  
_And if you'll only hold me tight _  
_We'll be holding on forever..._

And suddenly I was laughing, for no reason that I could fathom. Jane looked at me, the question evident in his face, and I managed to curb my laughter to answer him.

"This song makes me feel like I'm in a cheesy 80s movie,"

He gave a slight chuckle, "Our lives have enough drama for one,"

And the mood was restored. Because things could never be too bad for too long, as long as Patrick Jane was there.

* * *

The group sat in the centre of the room, waiting. The message on the answer machine had stated that the phone would ring at 9pm on monday. The tech crew were set up, ready to trace the call. It was time to finally find Jimmy Walker.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

And then the ringing started, shrill in the silence, almost deafening. The thug sniffed, and then answered his phone."

"Yeah?"

_"Dean, it's me, I'm in big trouble,"_

"Jimmy man, where are you? I've been lookin' all over,"

_"I can't say right now, I just need your help,"_

"What's up?"

_"I need you to bring the stash to the meeting spot at 11pm tomorrow. Don't be late,"_

"Jimmy...Steve'll kill us if he finds us taking that stuff,"

_"Yeah well, they're gonna kill me if you don't,"_

"Jimmy,"

_"Just do it Dean,"_

The sound of the dialling tone echoed through the room. The tech gave a thumbs up, the signal had been traced. With a quick nod from Lisbon, we cleared out.

* * *

Why did today have to be so busy? Therapist session, Jane's return, my coffee date and a night time stake out. All in one day. Stress was really setting in.

It started that morning. The alarm didn't go off, and I spent my time running around, grabbing un-ironed clothes. Hair pushed into a messy bun, tripping up as I slid my shoes on, I ran out the door, slamming it as I went. The traffic had been terrible, and I'd hit every red light. Rush hour was in full flow. And now I was once again stuck in the stuffy little wood panelled office.

His little watery eyes were watching me carefully, scribbling little notes down at every possible moment. I kept my eyes down, staring at the floor, fingers running over the scar on my cheek, the same familiar line. My face was clammy, and my throat tight. Why did it have to be so hot in here? It only intensified the feeling of being trapped, making the panic rise.

"So tell me Madeline, when was the last time you had a nightmare?"

"Maddy. And it would have been last night," I admitted reluctantly.

"Can you remember what happened?"

"Started off the same as always. Sitting in the back of a van with a pare of eyes watching me. The shack. The sound of gunshots. Blood, lots of blood. Gary, talking. And his voice too. Red John's,"

"Your father's voice?"

I gulped, feeling sick. "I don't like to think of him as that,"

"You won't be able to move on until you accept your relation to him Madeline,"

"Maddy," I replied through gritted teeth.

"Of course. Go on,"

"Then it's...then it's my mother. Lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Dead," My voice broke, and I fought back tears. I would not cry in front of this little man.

"You still blame yourself for your mother's death?"

"If I'd gone home that night she would have been alive," I replied very quietly.

"You have no way of knowing that. Were there any additional memories in the dream?"

I cringed inwardly. "There was one. Jane getting shot, him bleeding out,"

"You've grown very attached to Mister Jane,"

"Of course. He's been very supportive," I replied

"Yes, I imagine he has. However, I sense there's more to it than that,"

"We're friends," My voice had an edge to it that suggested otherwise, but I was saved from further explanation by his little alarm going off.

"Well, we're out of time once again Madeline. I'll see you next week,"

I left without saying goodbye. This time, I couldn't get the car fast enough however. The tears were streaming down my face half way across the car park, and a passing woman gave me an odd look. My keys evaded me as I searched my bag, trying to hold back, but with a final sob I gave up, slamming my fist against the car window, sagging in defeat. Wrist throbbing, hair in my face, I jumped as my cellphone vibrated in my pocket. With a sniff, I took it out, reading the message.

_Waiting with tea. Hold on in there. _

_Jane. _

I didn't know whether to laugh or sob. With a final grudging search I had the keys, and started the car.

* * *

And true to his word, he was waiting in the kitchen area, kettle boiled, tea bag in the cup, leaning against the counter at an awkward angle, spinning his crutch in one hand. His movement was haphazard, but he was hanging in there, and didn't look as ill as he had before. His face was a healthy colour once more, and his eyes had their usual mischievous glint in them.

"You shouldn't be standing, take some wait of that leg," I told him, taking hold of his arm to guide him to the table.

I could still hear the tears in my voice, and apparently so could he. Of course, how could he miss a little detail like that. He stopped me at arms length, inspecting my face, eyes still red and puffy, and unable to meet his. But they were soon opening wide in shock as I was dragged into a one armed hug. It was gentle and warm and didn't last nearly as long as I wanted it too. He sat down stiffly , and I followed his example.

"That bad huh?"

I nodded in reply, inspecting my hand. A nasty purple bruise had risen where I'd smacked it against the car, and it was stiff to move. I looked up in time to see Jane frowning down at it. He took a sip of tea, nodding at my hand.

"How did you do that?"

"I tripped down the stairs at my apartment," I replied in an even tone. He shook his head.

"You're lying,"

"No I'm not!" I replied indignantly and he gave a snort.

"Oh come on. That was textbook. You looked off to the left, your hands were fidgeting. What did you do?"

" I was frustrated okay? I didn't intentionally punch the car!"

He shook his head, taking another sip of tea. "You need to look after yourself,"

"I am," I replied quietly.

This time he didn't point out the blatant lie.

* * *

The day passed slowly, with only paper work to do until the stake out that night. With Jane back, my main priority was keeping an eye on him, and with his leg the way it was, he wasn't going anywhere fast. At least I had time to tidy my desk. Twice. It was spotless now, and I'd found my coffee date note in my purse in the process. It was coming up for 12pm. I made a snap decision, hell, I needed something to cheer me up. It was time to find out who my secret admirer was.

I made my way to the locker room to grab my coat, informing Lisbon on the way that I'd be going out for lunch and would be back soon. It was empty when I got there, so I quickly retrieve my coat from my locker, throwing it on, nerves fluttering in my belly. Turning round to head back out of the door, I stopped. Jane was standing in the doorway, leaning on his crutch.

"Not staying for lunch?"

"Uhh no, I'm meeting someone," God, why did I have to be blushing. Again.

"Well, according to the colour of your face, it's a man," He gave a little nod. "Have fun?"

"Thanks Jane,"

Silence for a few seconds that felt more like a few minutes.

"Do you mind me asking who?"

Lie? Tell the truth? He'd know I was lying anyway. Of course he would.

"Uhh...it'-it's the guy who sent me the roses, " I don't know what reaction I was expecting. Certainly not the one I got.

I could see Jane visibly bristling, anger and disbelief in his eyes. He hobbled into the room, swinging forward on his crutch until he was so close.

"You can't go. You have no idea who this man is, you could get yourself killed,"

"Jane, what are you talking about? It's just some guy! Why are you getting all annoyed?"

"Because it might not be 'just some guy'! Have you not thought about the flowers? Red roses? A red carnation last time you were in hospital? Do you want to end up there again? Are you trying to get yourself killed,"

"Wait..." It suddenly hit me. "You think it's my fa- you think it's Red John? You're being stupid Jane! Stop being so paranoid!"

"You're the one being stupid! You think I'm paranoid? Then why does he seem to follow us everywhere? He has spies everywhere! He is always watching, he will NEVER leave us alone," his voice was low and angry.

"You _are_ being paranoid! Why can't you just let this go? Why can't we just forget about Red John? Get on with life?"

"Forget? Of course, let's forget what he did to my family," His voice was rising now, his eyes glistening. "Forget what he did to your mother!"

That hit a nerve. "Shut up Jane,"

"Forget that he carved them up and painted the walls with their blood," His face was only inches away now as he shouted at me.

"I said SHUT UP!"

"Forget that he's your father!"

"SHUT UP!"

And he did. But not before the tears were streaming down my face and I was breathing heavily. The unspent tears sparkled at the edges of his eyes as he panted, a half mad look on his face. We were so close that our noses were almost touching. And then all coherent thoughts disappeared from my head, and before I could register what I was doing, my lips were crushed up against his. I could feel him freeze for an instant, and waited for him to pull back. But then a hand snaked around my back, pulling me closer, his lips working against mine, full of fury and emotion. Every tear I had cried in the last year, every moment of longing, of fear, of anger, were all pent up into this one moment.

And in that one moment, hands wrapped up in his curly golden hair, lips locked furiously together, my coffee date was forgotten.

* * *

**Well...I hope that was worth the wait. I considered splitting this into separate chapters, but then i thought "Damn it, it's time to give them what they want. Maybe they won't kill me. As much"**

**It's good to be back ;)**


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